


I'll be there

by Rosalind_or_Ganymede



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 12:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22849789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosalind_or_Ganymede/pseuds/Rosalind_or_Ganymede
Summary: Three years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry has moved in with Hermione and Ron. He wants everything to be okay, but he cannot stop the war that rages on in his own mind. Thankfully, his friends are always there to pull him out when he starts to sink.A little look at Ron and Harry's friendship.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	I'll be there

“Harry? Hermione?” Ron dropped his keys in the bowl by the door as he entered the flat. He walked through the narrow front hall into the living room, shedding his shoes, bag, and cloak as he went. Hermione sat on the couch, nose in a book and a quill frantically taking notes on its own on a piece of parchment next to her. She didn’t look up as he came in. Ron smiled and leaned against the back of the couch to kiss the top of her head. 

“You left your things in the hall again.” 

“How do you know?” She glanced up at him with the “seriously, Ronald?” look that she had been practicing since their first year at Hogwarts, and he laughed “Fair enough. I’ll pick them up in a minute.” 

Hermione sighed and flicked her wand, and Ron heard a gentle whoosh from the front hall. “Don’t bother.”    
“You’re the best, Hermione.” She waved him off and went back to her book. Ron moved around the front of the couch, gathering up the crumpled parchments littering the floor and small pile of dirty dishes on the table. He carried them into the kitchen, calling back over his shoulder “Where’s Harry?” 

“In the bathtub.” 

Ron dumped the trash and started the dishes before heading back to the living room. “Do you mean in the bathtub taking a bath, or…” Hermione put her book down and turned to him. “Ah.” He sighed. “It’s happening again.” Hermione nodded. 

“I tried to talk to him,” she said “but you know how he gets. Eventually I just gave up and left him alone.” 

“How long has he been in there?” 

“At least two hours.” Hermione reached over the back of the couch to grab Ron’s hand. “Will you talk to him?” Ron glanced towards the hallway that led to the bedrooms and the bathroom. The door to the bathroom was open just a crack, and it was dark inside. 

“Yeah, of course.” Hermione sighed in relief, then picked up her book again and carefully thumbed through the pages to find her place. Ron walked to the bathroom door, not bothering to knock as he entered. He crossed his arms and stared at his best friend. Harry was curled up in the bathtub, fully clothed and with a stormy expression on his face. The curtains were drawn, and all the lights were out. The shower head, which Ron had been meaning to fix for the past week or so, was dripping steadily onto his right shoulder. Harry had his wand out, and was currently using it to grow and shrink their soap. Ron wondered briefly if he would have agreed to sharing a flat with Harry if he had known just how often this would happen, before deciding that of course he would have. He watched Harry for a second, then nodded to himself.  _ Right _ Ron thought  _ Here we go _ . He flicked on the lights, and Harry groaned. 

“You look like shit.” Harry looked up at him accusingly, and Ron rolled his eyes, sitting down on the ground next to the tub. “What are you doing in here?” 

Harry shrugged “Started to panic, yelled a bit, then… bathtub.” Ron stared at him, and Harry had the decency to look a bit embarrassed.    
“Ladies and gentlemen, the hero of the wizarding world,” Ron said, causing Harry to curl up even tighter “Why the tub, mate? You do know that you have a bed, right?” 

“ ‘seemed appropriate.” 

“How?” Harry didn’t answer. Ron shook his head. “Right, well you’ve got to get out now.” 

“Don’t want to.” 

“I don’t really care.” 

“I’m comfortable here.” 

“There’s a wet patch on your shoulder.” 

Harry looked at Ron miserably “I deserve it.” Ron snorted. “You’re an idiot,” he told Harry matter-of-factly, “you do know that, right?” Harry poked the bar of soap again, causing it to shrink down to almost nothing. “Will you stop that?” The soap bar returned to its normal size “Thank you.” Ron leaned against the bathtub. “Now, talk to me, will you? Why are you here?” Harry shrugged. Ron turned so that he was fully facing his friend, his face serious “Harry,” he said gently “What happened.” 

“Nothing.” Harry crossed his arms as Ron gave him an incredulous look. “Really! I was in the kitchen making tea, then I came in here.” 

“Why?”    
Harry ran a hand through his hair, pushing it over his scar the way he always did when he was upset. “ _ I don’t know _ . I just… I was fine, I was normal, and then I started thinking, and then I couldn’t stop.” He glanced up at Ron. “I shouted a bit at Hermione.” Ron nodded, but didn’t speak. He waited, letting Harry gather his thoughts. “I was thinking about Dumbledore,” Harry said at last “about seeing him… He made mistakes, I know that, but he cared about me, and I saw him die, Ron, I watched it happen. And that got me thinking about Sirius, and Remus, and the war, and suddenly it just-” 

“-Felt like you were right back in it?” Ron asked. Harry nodded. Ron closed his eyes and listened to the steady drip of the faucet. “I know what that’s like,” he said “I mean, not all of it, obviously. But sometimes I think about what happened, all the things we had to do, and it’s like my heart just stops. I still have nightmares about it, you know?” Harry nodded. “But it is over, we’ve got to remember that.” 

“Is it?” Harry asked. Ron looked at him, huddled in the corner of the bathtub looking impossibly young. Three years, and he still looked like that. Ron shook his head. 

“No, I guess not. Not all the way.” Harry nodded. 

“Will it ever be?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe not, for us.”  _ For you _ , Ron thought. “We lived in it for a long time. I still have a hard time remembering what life is like without feeling like someone is going to kill me. Or feeling like someone is going to kill you, and I need to pull you out of the way.” 

“You never had to pull me out of the way.” 

“Please. That was basically my life at Hogwarts. Hermione’s, too. Not that I’m complaining,” he added “You saved our lives pretty much constantly, so it seemed fair. And anyway, you’re my best mate.”    
“So?”    
Ron rolled his eyes.“So I love you, you git,” he said easily. Harry tensed.

“Oh.” Harry pocketed his wand. “Right.” Ron wanted to hit him upside the head. He always got like this when he and Hermione tried to remind him that people cared about him. He figured they would just have to keep doing it until he accepted it.

“Yeah, right. So because you’re my best mate and I love you, I’m not going to let you sit in a tub feeling sorry for yourself.” 

Harry scowled “I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself.”    
“If self-pity was a sport, you’d be better at it than you are at quidditch.” Ron stood up and held out a hand to help Harry do the same. “Want to prove me wrong? Get out of the tub and change into a dry shirt.” Harry stood up slowly and let Ron help him step out onto the floor. He winced as his foot hit the ground, and Ron gripped his hand a little tighter. 

“I’m fine. My foot fell asleep.” 

“Serves you right.” Harry smiled ruefully and took a step towards the door. Ron stopped him. “You know that you don’t have to do this alone, right?” He asked. Harry looked at him questioningly. “I don’t just mean that Hermione and I will help. I mean, we will. Obviously, but there are other people.” He took a deep breath, preparing for Harry’s reaction. “Hermione and I have both been seeing a therapist and maybe-” he raised his voice slightly over Harry’s noise of indignation “-maybe it would be a good idea for you to see one, too. It could help.” 

“My uncle always said that therapists were only for people who’d gone ‘round the bend.” 

“Because he’s such a great source of advice,” Ron said, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “Harry, the man’s a stuffed walrus who thinks that a broom closet is a good place to shove a kid-” Ron cut himself off as Harry looked down. He bit the inside of his cheek and breathed in “I’m just saying, he’s not the best judge of what’s right. Therapy’s helpful. Lord knows it’s helped me.” Harry shifted awkwardly, and Ron saw that this wasn’t a battle to have right now. When he was younger, he probably would have forged on anyway, but now he just took a deep breath and filed the conversation away for later. “Anyway, it’s just something to think about,” He said calmly “but it doesn’t matter right now. Go change.” Harry nodded and looked back towards the bathroom door. 

“I should apologize to Hermione.” 

“Yeah, you should.” 

“I should apologize to you, too.” 

That startled Ron a bit. “Why?” 

“Because,” Harry said “You have to put up with me doing stuff like this. It’s not fair. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to move in here. I should have just found my own place. You and Hermione shouldn’t have to deal with my shit.” 

Ron had heard this argument before, and he could see where it was going. He would say it was fine, Harry would lash out, they would end up yelling, and Harry would wind up back in the bathtub. Instead, he pulled Harry into a hug and held him tightly, trying to squeeze the self-loathing out of him.

“You know whenever you talk like this, I get flashbacks to fifth year? God, you were an asshole then,” he said over Harry’s shoulder.

“Why didn’t you just walk away.” 

“I could never. At least not for good. One of these days, you’re just going to have to get used to the idea that you’re stuck with me. Hermione, too. Be as melodramatic as you want, we’re not going away.” 

Ron could tell that Harry was starting to smile. “I’m a burden,” he said, still trying to keep up his sullen attitude. Ron hugged him tighter. 

“You’re an idiot, is what you are. But you’re our idiot, so we don’t mind.” 

Harry pulled back “Thank you,” he said “really.” 

Ron shrugged “What are friends for? Now really, find a dry shirt and apologize to Hermione. I think I’ll make some sandwiches. Hermione hasn’t moved since I left this morning, and if you’ve been in here, I’m assuming you haven’t eaten either?” Harry shook his head and Ron laughed. “Honestly, the pair of you. Well, go on!” Harry laughed and headed towards his bedroom. Ron turned off the bathroom light and let himself take a moment to breathe before he too stepped out into the hallway. Hermione looked up as he entered the living room. 

“How is he?” She asked. 

“Not great,” Ron said, looking back over his shoulder. Sometimes, looking at Harry was like looking at an open wound. He still hadn’t shed the pain of the war. It made Ron’s chest ache, to think of all the loss that Harry carried with him. Hermione came and stood next to him, slipping her hand into his. Ron let himself lean into her, and she wrapped an arm around his waist. 

“It’s going to take time,” she murmured “that’s all.” 

Ron looked at her “You really think he’s going to be okay?”    
“Of course. We’ll make sure of it.”


End file.
